


Merry Little Christmas

by JiM



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Episode Related, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Series, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-10-25
Updated: 2001-10-25
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:11:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JiM/pseuds/JiM
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Merry Little Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Merry Little Christmas

## Merry Little Christmas

by anonymous co

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Aren't mine, don't own 'em, thought they were cute and might like   
to have some fun. Besides, talk about subtext. This is JiM's fault, and Bone's. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Author's Notes: 

Story Notes: 

This story is a sequel to: Knockin' on Heaven's Door 

* * *

  * A Merry Little Christmas *** 



A Merry Little Christmas 

I'm a hurting puppy the last few days after the whole incision thing. I'm also confined strictly to bedrest. Doctors tend not to like it when their work gets undone, and I'm so unglued anyway, it's hard to find the energy to do anything. I made Fraser take Dief back to work with him. A wolf can't carry a gun, but Dief's got a good nose, and at least he's one more warning system. 

Frannie brought over the stuff she was able to get yesterday, and I gotta admit, she can be an airhead sometimes, but she did a great job. I'm not going crazy on presents, I admit, but Fraser's such a-well, he has simple wants, as he tells me, only he usually adds that I'm really the only compelling want he has, and he usually tells me that in bed. 

Still, I got him a sweater like that old one he has. Frannie did great with that, it's really close to the same cable knit, but different enough that he won't feel like I'm trying to replace his old one. Couple of new shirts for civvy wear, some music I think he'll like and an IOU for some really good arctic gear, for when we do finally get the chance to take our adventure. 

So I'm good, I'm set, just a few things like for the station Christmas party, which I am by God going to go to, and for Frannie, just because she's been a good friend, not just lately. 

My dad takes me to the doctor to let Hanrahan check me up again, and I get a tentative all clear to be up and around again. "No driving," Hanrahan says, "For two weeks, and stay out of firing range." 

I could end up liking this guy after all. Anyway, my dad was really great about the damage to the GTO, and we stop by to have a look at it. Can't pick it up, but Dad says, "You know, I could bring Fraser over if he gets off work a little early. Let him drive it back." 

"Yeah?" It sort of boggles my mind, my dad offering to do _anything_ with Fraser, but I'm still in the mindset left over from his never-darken-my-door thing. "That would be great." 

He pats my shoulder. "When we get back, why don't you give him a call." 

"Sure." He's still hugging me an awful lot, but the drive-by the other day shook him and my mom a lot. And then I think. "I dunno, Dad. Until we know who was shooting at who, maybe that's not a great idea." 

He gives me a long look. Nods. He doesn't say anything else about that, but he's kind of quiet when we hit the mall. I let it be, because I can't blame him, but we have some fun getting some stuff for my mom, since Dad's like every other guy since time began, and left it to the last minute. 

We get back and not only does my mom have dinner ready, she's been baking. The smells in the apartment take me back to when I was a kid, and I get in her way sneaking tastes of stuff until she shoos me out and Dad tells me to lie down. Real gruff voice, like I'm not supposed to figure out how worried he's been. 

I'm definitely tired, I have to admit, so I lie down on the couch like a good son, and we talk about Christmas. 

"You know, your mom and me would like to come up on Christmas day," Dad says, still kinda gruff. "If that's okay with you and Fraser." 

That surprises me, but I nod. "That'd be great, Dad." 

He coughs and grins. "I think your mom just wants to cook your Christmas dinner." 

I grin back. "That's the great thing, Mom's cookin'." 

We both laugh about that, and the front door opens up and Dief comes in, followed by Fraser, who has an armful of grocery bags. I get up, but he won't give me anything, and I follow him in. My kitchen isn't exactly sized for three people walking around, but hey, I'm not crippled, I got the all clear for light activity again. I help him put the groceries away, steal a cookie from the latest batch my mom has cooling. 

Tastes like Christmas, and I steal another one for Fraser, put it in his mouth. 

He's kind of startled, but he takes a bite, takes the cookie from my hand. We haven't exactly been conversing a lot lately, I guess, and I think it's me that surprises him more than the cookie. Fact is, I've been stewing, and like that's going to do a lot of good, Kowalski, like it's going to do anything but make him pull back behind his Mountie face, and that's sort of what's been happening. "Good, huh?" 

He blinks at me, nods. "It is, very good." Looks at my mother and smiles. "Excellent, in fact." 

So we bounce around the kitchen for a bit, and then my mom grabs her coat and drags my dad out of the chair. Fraser invites them to stay for dinner, which is okay, but she shakes her head, gives me a hug and then they're gone. 

Fraser goes into the bedroom to change, and I follow him. Dief follows us and gets up on the bed. "Down," Fraser tells him sternly. 

Dief just looks at him, so I sprawl next to Dief. "I spoiled him while he was here with me," I say. "It's not his fault." 

He looks at Dief, shakes his head. "Soft, Dief. You're getting soft." He starts undoing the tunic. "What did Doctor Hanrahan have to say?" 

Okay, I officially feel really stupid. He asked me to call him after my appointment and I forgot. So I tell him, "I forgot to call." And my face is hot. "He says I'm clear for light activity, can't lift anything over ten pounds, yadda yadda. Says I'm doing a lot better than he expected." 

He's turned away, unbuttoning his tunic. "Well, I could have told him." Mild tone. 

"My dad needed some help with shopping for my mom." I'm still feeling guilty. Might be because we haven't been talking a lot lately. 

"Did he find everything he wanted?" He hangs the tunic up, comes back to the bed to sit down. 

"I think so. How was your day?" Boy, that sounds dumb, too. 

He looks at me over his shoulder. "Uneventful," he says, goes back to unlacing his boots. "Unless I count Francesca appearing with lunch for Constable Munro." 

"How is that an event?" 

He looks over his shoulder again, smiles a little. "Ah, well, it depends on how you define event. I'm afraid Francesca isn't terribly shy, and her greeting, there in the foyer, was rather effusive." 

"She did major face sucking," I translate. 

"Major," he agrees and chuckles. "I'm afraid Constable Munro was taken by surprise." 

The chuckle lets me relax. I reach out and tug the Henley out of his pants, run my fingertip over the bumps of his spine. He tugs the boots off, and then I'm being held down too carefully and kissed very nicely. Good, good, that's real good, means he knows I'm not mad at him and he's not mad at me, so we do a little making out. Dief gets offended and gets down. 

At least he doesn't want to watch any more. 

"Ben," I say, when his mouth leaves mine and sort of travels over my cheekbone. "Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben." 

"Hmmmm?" 

"Nothin'." He pokes my ribs gently and I laugh into his mouth when it comes back to mine. "I just like doin' that." 

"I suspect you're making fun of me," he says and nips my chin. "Fortunately, I'm very fond of you." 

Oh, yeah, that's good to hear. I know I just got past tearing the stupid incision open, but I want to feel his weight on me, wish I could. "When I get the all clear," I tell him, "I plan to make you sleep on top of me." 

He looks confused for a minute, but then he gets it. "And you say _I'm_ unhinged," he tells me, but that's okay. The distance is gone now, and even if it wasn't that big a distance, I'm glad it's gone. 

He raises a hand to rub my eyebrows. "You _do_ know that I'm taking great care, don't you? I have too much to lose these days." 

I stare at him. Think about it. "I know." And I do. Somehow, in just a couple of minutes, I do. "Good. So I won't have to kick you in the head." 

"God forbid." He smiles at me, and I pull him back down close for another kiss. Still no weight on me, but oh, yeah, great kiss and I do my level best to turn it into more. 

"Dinner," he says and bites my chin again. "You're incorrigible." 

I put on my best innocent look. "Is that good?" 

He pretends to think about it. "Most of the time, yes. But I'm starving, I missed lunch and I'm afraid Dief isn't the only one spoiled by you." 

So we take care of dinner, only now I'm feeling lazy and tired from practically nothing, so we eat in the bedroom watching the news. 

And on the news, which I don't watch a lot of the time, I hear a reporter say that Jerry Mahan is being transferred from the hospital to jail, and I flash on him pointing that gun at me for the shot that'll finish me and for a minute I can't breathe. 

Fraser's arm goes around me, and then I'm okay, it was just a flash, but I lean against him anyway. I wonder if I'm going to freeze on the street, but I'm too tired to deal with that right now. He feels too good, smells too good, is too good. 

"My folks want to come for Christmas dinner, if that's okay." 

He gives me a look. "Of course. They're your parents." 

I grin. "Yeah, but I wish I knew who that guy was and what he did with my dad." 

"Ray!" But he's laughing. "Well, perhaps you mean more to him than old prejudices." 

Whatever the reason, I'm glad. Damn glad. 

We finish dinner and I go out with him to clear up, because hey, I'm on my feet again even if I hate housework. 

"You know, Ray," Fraser says suddenly. "I was thinking about your wanting more space." 

"Yeah?" I'm rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. "What about it?" 

"Well, ah, there's a, ah, small house Francesca told me about." He gives me a cautious look. "It's more or less equidistant from both the station and the Consulate. The rent seems to be quite reasonable, and with both our salaries, I think we could comfortably manage." 

A house? I'm staring at him like I just turned to stone. A house? With a yard? Yard work. "Does it have a yard?" I ask nervously. 

He nods hopefully. "Yes, but not to worry, I'm quite capable of yard work." 

He _does_ read my mind. "Is it better than most of the apartments you looked at when we were first partners?" 

He grins outright. "Well, yes. Actually, I found it quite luxurious, but I suspect that means that it will be adequate from your point of view." 

That gets me moving again. "So why a house?" 

He rubs his eyebrows. Cracks his neck. "I don't know. Francesca insisted I have a look at it, and it appealed to me." 

What the hell is Frannie up to? "We can take a look," I finally say. I mean, what the hell do I care, as long as a) he's there, and b) I don't have to do the yard work? "Maybe tomorrow?" 

Well, the smile I get is worth worrying about shrubs. When we get back to the bedroom, I get exactly what I wanted, more long, hungry kissing and some fooling around, and even if I'm still too whipped to get crazy, it's great, really great. Fraser folds me against his chest after, just hugs me. 

"A house, huh?" Feels like all my bones have melted. "How many bedrooms?" 

"Two. Two stories, the bedrooms are both upstairs." He yawns suddenly. "I think you'll like it, actually." 

"Okay." I'm nuzzling him and feeling like maybe I'll be able to make a comeback. "Hey, tomorrow's the party at the station." 

"Oh." I can almost feel him shake himself back awake. "Oh, dear, I'd nearly forgotten. Ah, let me see if I can call the owner, make arrangements for us to go over after the party." 

"Great. Sounds good." I close my eyes and just that fast I'm gone, only no nightmares or anything, just crazy stuff about Christmas trees and snow, miles and miles of snow and Dief frisking around in it. 

I'm still smiling when I wake up. Maybe it's just the Christmas thing or something. 

Ben's in the shower, so I know it's still early, and I slink into the bathroom and climb in the shower with him. 

He jumps a little, grins at me. "You should be asleep," he says and tips his head back to rinse it. The hot water feels good, and I nudge him over so I can have some. He picks up the soap and starts doing my back, which feels even better. "Did I wake you up?" 

"Uh uh. I was having some weird dream of Dief playin' in the snow." I let my head hang down and his hands slide over my shoulders. "I woke up laughin, almost." 

He laughs. "Well, as you know, Dief is prone to that." 

"Mmmmm. We haven't had much snow this winter yet." I've got my eyes closed, just enjoying the way his hands feel. Jeez, I'm spoiled but good, I think and turn around to rinse. "We'll probably get hit in January." 

"Possibly." He leans forward and steals a kiss before getting out. I grab the shampoo and wash my hair. I need a haircut bad, my hair's getting too long to have much attitude. Fraser's shaving when I get out, but he hands me a clean towel, eyes me critically. "That's healing up nicely again." 

I look down at the scar. Looks pretty awful to me, but he's right. "About time." 

He shakes his head, goes back to shaving. "Ray, give yourself a little time. It's only been three weeks. Doctor Hanrahan's quite right, you're doing amazingly well." Little glint in those eyes. "I could have told him." 

I grin. "You got faith in me," I tell him and lean in to kiss the back of his neck. "I'm gonna make some coffee and tea. Be right back." 

"Put some clothes on," he says absently. 

I laugh a little. "You worry too much." 

That gets a look. "My faith in you includes my awareness of your tendency to push your limits." 

I'm still snickering while I get dressed. Coffee on, tea brewing, and I'm rummaging through the refrigerator trying to decide if I want anything to eat or not, and wondering what Fraser wants when he comes up behind me and Jesus please us, gooses me. 

I yelp and end up plastered against the refrigerator door with a starched and pressed Mountie against me. Not that I'm complaining, of course, not at all. "I count my blessings daily," he mutters and lets go of me. 

I'm not sure I want to be let go of, but hey, he's got to go to work, one of us should be bringing some income in, since I'm on temporary disability these days. He pours me a mug of coffee and himself a mug of tea. I gotta say, I like this, this duet thing we've got going at home, too, makes me feel warm and fuzzy. So I settle on bagels, toast a couple while he leans against the counter to drink his tea, all brushed and buttoned and buckled and looking like a proper Mountie. 

I look up to catch him watching me with that soft expression that always turns my bones to mush, and I have no clue what brought it on, but I like it. After the last few weeks, it's damn fine just to feel good, no worries, just the two of us having a moment. I still get a twinge now and then because he's in Chicago, not up north where he belongs, or where I think he belongs, but I'm damned glad he is. "You happy, Ben?" 

He arches an eyebrow at me, surprised. "I would say so. Why?" 

I shrug, a little embarrassed. "I just worry, that's all. I mean, you know, Chicago and everything." 

He puts his mug down, looks at me with his eyes narrowed. "I thought we'd settled that." 

"I'm a needy fuck, I just need to hear it." I'm a lot embarrassed. "I know I am, I just don't want you bein' unhappy or homesick." 

"Ray, Ray, Ray." He shakes his head, tugs me over. "Certainly there are things I miss. But Chicago has something I'd miss far more." He puts his hand in my damp hair, shakes my head a little by tangling his fingers there. "This suits us both. We can retire to Canada." Little glint in those blue eyes. 

Retire to Canada. Okay, I'm officially mush now. That's way in the future, that means he's thinking long term, which I knew, but hey, I'm a needy fuck, it's nice to hear it. "Okay." 

He grins, kisses me, and lets go of my hair. Picks up his mug again. "I have more good in my life than I ever expected to have, Ray, and it's due to you and _your_ presence in my life." 

Way warm and fuzzy now. "Me, too." I'm embarrassed and happy and if I were a cat, I'd be rubbing around his ankles. 

"Good." That sweet smile that seems to be reserved for me. Wow. 

We've come a long way in a year, I think, and that makes everything else slide back into perspective. I'll figure out the job thing, and we'll work it through, just like Fraser always says. 

I send him off with a bagel, since he's running a little later than he likes, and he and Dief go off. I've got the day ahead of me, but hey, I can handle it, and we've got the party this afternoon, then a look at that house. I must have settled something in my sleep, because I'm kind of interested in seeing it now, yard work or not. 

Day after tomorrow is Christmas, so I do some wrapping first of all, and then decide I'm going to go down the street. There's a bookstore two blocks down, and we were in there in November and Fraser saw some things he liked, but wouldn't unbend enough to get them. He didn't need them, he said, so I decided I was going to get them. One was just one of those coffee table books about the Northwest areas, the Yukon and stuff, and it had some pictures of where we'd been. The other book was kind of cool, it was a new one about these guys digging up the site where a lot of Franklin's guys died. So, now that I'm mobile again, I'm going to bop down there and pick those up. 

I'm getting ready to leave and I see my holster and gun sitting on the dresser. See, I might be on disability, but I'm still a cop, so there it is, and I'm suddenly feeling real weird and superstitious about going out without it. So, even though it's not completely kosher, I put it on under my winter jacket before I take off. 

It's snowing a little when I get outside, but the wind is down, so it's kind of pretty. That oughta last until we get some accumulation, I guess, and then it's sliding cars and crazy drivers and dirty slush. When I was a kid, I never noticed that, all I remember is clean white snow and skating on the rink in the park. I haven't skated in a long time, I'm not even sure I still can, but I'll bet Fraser can. Might be fun, I think, and stop at the corner light, wait for it to turn. 

The whole time, I'm doing the cop thing, keeping an eye on the street, watching for anything hinky, never mind I'm just being allowed out of the house on my own two feet. The light changes and I cross and the back of my neck prickles. I look over my shoulder, but looks like I'm just being paranoid, all I see is a couple of older guys and a mom with a couple of little kids hanging onto her hands. 

I'm still glad to get into the bookstore, believe me. I spend some time in there, just because, yeah, I figure I'm just freaked out about the drive by, and being a wuss, and hell, I'm armed, so I finally go back out once I talk some sense into myself. Well, mostly I talk sense into myself, I'm still antsy, and I'm watching cars go by and trying to pretend I'm not, and maybe I'm not just crazy paranoid, because one car cruises by twice, and maybe they're just looking for parking, and maybe they're not. 

They're not. Sometimes hunches can save your life, I guess, because I hit the ground and roll to take cover and I'm screaming at people to get down, get down, and the glass windows of the grocery store right next to me shatter. 

There's an elderly woman up ahead of me, and it's only by the grace of God she didn't get hit, and I shimmy over there and pull her down behind the car. She's shaking like a leaf, and starting to cry, but she's not the only one. Well, I'm shaking, not crying, and I make her stay down, and I hear more gunfire, but it's coming from a different direction. I have my gun in my hand, and I poke my head up a little and sure enough, there's an unmarked car a little way down the street, about half a block from my building, and a couple of plainclothes guys I can't recognize from this distance. 

Sirens not too far away now, and I keep the woman down, my hand on her back. 

"Are you a police officer?" she asks me, her voice quavery. 

"Yes, ma'am," I tell her, and mine isn't all that much steadier. 

I'm listening and it's not good, it's like the gunfight at the OK corral, and that's pretty fucking scary on a city street. I'm thinking about that mother I saw with her kids and praying they're someplace safe, and thinking about the two old guys and hoping they're off the street, and the sirens get really loud and I hear brakes screaming. 

More shouting, and the gunfire quits. I hear footsteps coming this way, fast, and I put myself over the old lady, hold my gun up, but it's Tommy Hathaway. "Jesus, you're okay-ma'am, are you hurt?" 

"She's okay, just shaken up," I tell him. "What the _hell_ is going on?" 

He's nice enough to ignore the fact that my voice is shaking, gives me a hand up. "You didn't tear that open again, did you? The shooter's down, we've got an ambulance on the way." 

I look inside my coat, but I'm not hurting like I was, and there's no blood. "I'm good," I tell him and lean back against the car at the curb because my legs are shaky. "What the fuck is going on?" 

"Later." Tommy helps the woman up, talks softly to her, puts an arm around her. "I'm gonna take her inside the store here, check and make sure nobody's hurt in there." 

I nod shakily. 

He looks at me. "Come on, Ray." Patiently. "You need to get out of the cold, too." 

So I follow him on shaky legs. Inside, there's a woman working as cashier, she got hit by the glass, but she was lucky, everybody inside was lucky, nobody got hit. 

Tommy gets the old lady sitting down and the store manager brings her a cup of coffee from his office. I'm staring through the shattered windows at the shooter's car. Shaking a little, and back to wondering what the fuck good it does to kill me when there's a whole team of detectives and surveillance tapes and what all to stand witness. 

A hand settles on my shoulder and I nearly leap out of my skin. Tommy pats me, laughs a little. "Crazy bastard, barely out of the hospital and you're protecting civilians." 

My face gets a little hot and I crack my neck. "Yeah, well, I had a gun and she didn't." 

He pats me again, looks around. "I, ah, called your partner, he's on his way over." 

Oh. Shit. Well, hell, if Dewey's been shooting his mouth off, Tommy already knows, and I know he likes Fraser okay, I've seen them talking hockey. And then I think, oh, shit, he's going to freak out. "Look, Tommy, I'm just a half a block from home, I'm gonna go there, okay? I'm sort of wiped, you guys can come talk to me there, okay? Just tell Fraser I'm fine, I'm gonna crash." 

He gives me a long look. "You sure you're okay?" 

"I'm good, it just knocked the wind outa me." I shrug, and then something hits me. "What were you guys doin' here, anyway?" 

Tommy goes a little red. "Ah, keepin' an eye on you." 

I stare at him. "What?" 

He shrugs. "There's been some word on the street that Mahan's kid brother was out to get you. Thought we'd better keep an eye out." 

Shit. That means I fucking flamed out at Fraser for no reason, I was the target all along. "Oh." And then I realize I dropped my bag from the bookstore. I head back out to get it, and Tommy's with me all the way, he insists on walking me back to the building and sort of stands around watching the street while I go in. That is not a Good Thing. That means Crazy Eddie Mahan isn't going to take this failure too well. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I take the elevator because my legs are still wobbly and when I get into the apartment, it takes me about a minute and a half to crash into a bad case of the blues. 

I do get Fraser's books wrapped up anyway, more to keep from folding up than anything else. He doesn't show up, which is a relief and also kind of disappointing at the same time. I'm not in the mood to go to the station party any more, not even close, and I take off my shoes and get under the covers and crash hard. 

I wake up with a start when the mattress shifts. 

"Ray?" Soft voice. Fraservoice. 

I turn over and squint at him. "Hi," I tell him. 

He leans down and kisses my mouth, my eyelids, and my temple. "Ray," he says, almost whispering, "Ray, Ray, Ray." 

Hey, I'm half-asleep, but I'm not stupid, I tug at him a little and he lies down in full uniform next to me. I get hugged pretty hard, and he smells good, like winter air and snow, and himself. "What time izzit?" I ask, still stupid with sleep. 

"It's nearly five," he tells me and kisses me again. "I came in earlier, but you were asleep, I didn't want to wake you." 

"You shoulda," I tell him and wrap an arm around his neck. Feels good, feels better. "I'm okay." 

"I know, Detective Hathaway assured me you were only tired." He hasn't let go of me. "I'm afraid we're late for the party." 

"Hell with the party," I tell him. "I don't wanna go." 

"No? Are you sure?" He touches my face. 

"Yeah. Shit, we're supposed to go look at that house." I sigh. 

"Ah, Constable Munro is here, he was going to take us to the party." 

I sit up. The bedroom door is closed. "Oh." And then I think, Fraser's not above enlisting his fellow Mounties to keep me out of trouble. "Guard duty?" 

"No, he offered, since I haven't had time to pick up the GTO." He sits up with me, arches an eyebrow. "He also offered to take us over to look at the house, says he knows the neighborhood. It's not too far from the Vecchio's, and since he's attending the party as Francesca's guest &." His voice trails off and Dief pokes his nose over the edge of the bed to look at us. 

All that cheers me up a little. "Okay, this I gotta see." 

Fraser smiles. "Indeed." 

So I get up, and put my shoes on, get myself straightened up a little and we head on out. 

Frannie lights up like a Christmas tree when the three of us walk in, but I don't think it's me and Fraser plugging her in. I notice she's dressing a little nicer, little less like Wild Girl Frannie, and I grin at Fraser. 

I get greeted again like I'm the long lost son, and that sort of surprises me, but Fraser just seems to glow. Tommy ribs me about taking my gun to the bookstore and Huey gives me another one of those weird manly hugs, and Susan just plain hugs me. 

I'm kind of wowed, actually, and kind of embarrassed, but hey, even Welch comes out and shakes his head at me. "Kowalski, you're a lunatic." But he says it nice, not like he's busting my chops. 

Fraser just smiles at that, but I catch a shadow in his eyes when he looks back at me, so I bump up against him like it's accidental. "Hey, nothing wrong with my instincts, Ben." 

"I should say not," he agrees, and the shadow seems to retreat a little. 

So, we have some eggnog, and do the gift exchange thing, and I sneak Frannie the little gift pack of bath luxuries I got her. My mom told me once that women love that stuff and don't usually get it for themselves, and I remember Stella always loved it when I'd splurge on a gift basket, and Frannie opens hers and gives me a big hug. 

"Don't think this is gonna make me go easier on you when ya get back, Ray," she tells me, but she's laughing when she says it. 

Fraser and I sit in the backseat when Munro takes Frannie home. Well, not home, they both come into the house with us. Frannie knows the owner, Mr. Patricio, he's about seventy, and his wife died, and he'd like to sell, but he's willing to rent, and I walk in and feel like I got hit by a ton of bricks. 

This place feels like home. My instincts are zinging, swear to God, it's like I dreamed about this place once or something. Painted walls, no paper, and carpet that looks like it's practically new, and the kitchen's good, newish appliances, and half a bath downstairs, and Frannie and Munro wait downstairs while Fraser and I check out the upstairs. Big master bedroom, nice big bathroom upstairs, smaller second bedroom, and I can look down into the backyard. It's not so bad, not real big, and it's fenced and I can see there's a decent back porch. 

"I like it," I tell Fraser. "I like it. Jeez, Ben, you did good." I'd hug him, but who knows if Mr. Patricio is gonna come up to see how we like it. 

He just beams at me. "You like it?" 

"I like it." I open the closet. It's one of those big old-fashioned ones, almost a walk in, but wooden floors, old-fashioned door. "I like it a lot." I'm thinking, I'm thinking hard. "He wants to sell, huh?" 

That gets a startled look. "Well, yes, but he's willing to rent." 

I go back to the window. "This place feels good." 

He's watching me. "Ray, what are you thinking?" Not upset, just curious. 

I fold my arms. "I want to take it," I tell him. "But I want you to think about us buying it, I mean, if it checks out okay." I kind of have an idea of what things you should do before buying. "And if I can swing a mortgage." I have no fucking clue if foreign nationals can get mortgages. I know hard working cops from Chicago can, if the sale price isn't too bad. I guess I just decided to stick it out with the PD, I think. "I mean, we gotta live somewhere before we retire, right?" 

I swear to God, he lights up more than Frannie. "That's certainly true." 

I grin at him. "I know, I'm crazy. But honest to God, I swear, this place feels good. Weird, kinda, like I dreamed about it." 

He arches an eyebrow, looks around. "I confess, I felt drawn to it myself." 

Wow, Mr. Logic isn't around any more. Like I keep saying, we're all tangled up together. So I do hug him, quick and sneaky, and get a quick and sneaky kiss, and we go back downstairs and I still have my checkbook in my coat pocket, so I write Mr. Patricio a deposit check and we talk about maybe buying, and he talks about price, which isn't as bad as I expected. 

Frannie just beams at all of us, but Frannie's got it as bad as I do, only for Munro this time, and then Munro drives us over to the Vecchios and Mrs. Vecchio feeds us enough for an army 

I fall asleep in Munro's car on the way back, leaning against Fraser, who has his arm over the back of the seat. Frannie's still with us, she and the baby Mountie are going out dancing or to a movie, I can't remember what they decided on. The Vecchios were on something resembling their best behavior with two Mounties in the house, so it was at least a little quiet, and I've got a paper bag next to me with a care package. 

I swear to God, Mrs. Vecchio must have adopted me or something back when I was playing her son. Between my own mom and Mrs. Vecchio, I'm going to get downright chunky. 

Fraser gets in bed after locking the apartment up, and puts both arms around me. Hey, I'm not complaining, even if I am mostly asleep. I roll over and put my face in his neck, hook one leg over his. "'M glad you talked me into going," I mumble. 

He rubs the back of my neck. "I am, too. I think your colleagues were glad to see you." 

I think maybe that's true, and maybe it's true that the ones who were glad were also making sure I knew they weren't standing with Dewey. I don't say that, it's pretty cynical, and that bothers Fraser. I nuzzle Fraser's throat. "Love you, Ben." 

He pulls me close, holds me hard. "And I you, Ray." Fiercely. 

I figure it's just sinking in that somebody tried to whack me this afternoon. Can't say as I blame him, even if it sank in a lot earlier for me. So instead of complaining because he's got me so tight, I just nuzzle him, lift my head up so he loosens his grip, and give him a nice, long, sweet kiss. 

He settles down then, but he kisses me back, and then kisses me again before I put my face back into his neck. Hell, I remember how I felt when I thought that bastard Kelly had shot him. Or any other one of a half-dozen times Fraser's walked into the line of fire. 

But I'm not gonna think about that right now. I'm going to think about the guy I'm snuggled against, and the house that feels like home even though I never saw it before, and the fact that Christmas is the day after tomorrow. 

I close my eyes, smile against his skin. "Weird day." 

He laughs a little. "Yes, it was." 

That's the last thing I hear before I slide back under. The last thing I think is that I'm getting tired of being tired all the time, but hey, I had a busy day. 

Christmas Eve, and Fraser gets home early, around three, and I've moved the little potted tree to the coffee table and put the gifts out. I didn't put Dief's out, the damn wolf would have it open, and eating gift wrap is not a Good Thing for wolves. 

He grins at the sight. "Oh, dear, I see I have some gift wrapping to finish." 

I smirk at him from the couch. I'm reading his Franklin book that he had in the hospital, and I'm wearing his RCMP sweats, just because I think he gets a kick out of that even if it's just because they hang low on my hips. Sure enough, once he gets his coat hung up and his tunic unbuttoned, he comes over and slides his hand up under the sweatshirt, strokes my belly in a very friendly way. 

Oh, and kisses me, of course. 

"Hi," I tell him. 

He kisses me again, rubs my stomach. "Hi, yourself. How are you feeling?" 

I grin. "It's Christmas Eve, we're good, Dief's good, my mom is probably baking up a storm today and tonight, and she's gonna bring it over tomorrow-I'm feeling pretty damn good." 

I get kissed again as reward. I tug at his tunic, and he laughs against my mouth. "Let me get out of this, then you can molest me to your heart's desire." 

I am _all_ over that, I follow him into the bedroom and stretch out across the bed with Dief. Seems like this is getting to be a habit, Fraser just shakes his head at Dief, doesn't scold him for getting on the bed. I ruffle Dief's fur and he licks my chin, which is better than my ear, I guess, but I make him stop it. "How'd you like me to lick you?" I tell him, and wipe wolf spit off with the sweatshirt sleeve. 

"He'd probably like it a great deal," Fraser tells me, from in front of his dresser. "But probably not quite as much as I do." 

I grin and he comes over to the bed to sit down and lose the boots. "I made some calls today, looks like I might even qualify for the mortgage." 

He looks over his shoulder, a little startled. "You feel that strongly?" Not upset, just curious. 

I feel my face get hot. "Yeah. It's, uh, it's something that's ours, you know, from the start. Not like this place." I manage a half a shrug. "This is a good place now, but I'm goin' on my instincts. That house feels good. I can see us livin' there." Being happy there, I think, but that's too corny even for me to say. At least right now. 

Fraser smiles then. "I have to admit, it does." He goes back to his bootlaces, thinking. "You know, Ray, there's a great deal of money in an account of my father's. It was put there to implicate him &.well, I've been reluctant to face dealing with it. I knew he was innocent, but after Gerrard's trial and conviction, I came back here and I've never dealt with it. I've been thinking about it again lately, frankly, and I'd determined to use some of it to cover what medical bills aren't covered by your insurance." He looks over at me again. "I thought I would donate the rest of the money to the tribal councils of those whose homes were lost to the dam. It occurs to me that some of it could be put to good use in this instance." 

I know I'm staring at him, but I don't realize my jaw is hanging until he reaches out and pushes it up again, laughing a little at me. And then I get choked up, thinking about him worrying about the bills. Hell, I have been, too, even though I haven't wanted to think about it. So I push myself up and he turns to meet me, and I hug him hard, kiss the side of his neck. He doesn't say anything, just hugs me back, but when I settle back again, he smiles one of those melt-Ray's-bones smiles. "Okay," I tell him, and my voice is pretty shaky. "Okay, good." 

He gets the boots off, and stands up to take off the pumpkin pants. He's wearing his long johns under his uniform, and even though he oughta look silly in 'em, he doesn't. He looks kind of sexy, and when he looks over at me, I crook my finger at him. 

We end up getting naked pretty damn quick, and I'm so good with that, I want him bad, and I want him fucking me worse. He takes just a little convincing, but not too much, and I end up mostly on my side, pillows under me, and I'm turned on enough that even though it burns, I push back hard on him, have to catch my breath and get past the pain. 

"Impatient," he whispers, "Wait, Ray-ah, God, that's good." His hand tightens on my hip, releases and slides between my legs. Warm fingers stroke me back to life and I'm good, I sort of groan and reach back for him, his tongue touches the side of my throat. 

He's holding too still, I want him to move. "Christ, Ben, please, please-" 

"Wait, Ray." Thick voice. I love that voice, it drives me nuts to know it's because of what we're doing and I push my hips back. He bites at my shoulder, not real gently. "Stop that." 

Oh, yeah, it feels good, and I can't help it, I'm pumping into his fist, and he gives up, starts moving inside me, and that's it. I'm gonna last about a minute and a half, and who cares, it feels too good. 

I make it more than a minute and a half, but swear to God, I don't know how, and he's pumping into me hard, and that's about it for me, I let myself ride that, moving in the same rhythm, and wow, this is gonna be a biggie, I can feel it starting at the soles of my feet and the top of my head, and when those two sparks hit the base of my spine, I explode for him, babbling like a snake shaker, and he groans loud in my ear, pushes up into me hard. 

He wants to shower, after, and I'm feeling almost too damn boneless to care, but hey, there are times when he doesn't take no for an answer, so we compromise. Fitting both of us into the apartment bathtub isn't easy, but it wakes me up a little, and besides, it's fun. 

I love this guy, even when he makes me nuts, although I have to admit, that doesn't happen as often these days. Maybe we both understand each other a little better, who knows. We get dinner together, frozen lasagne, since we're starving and nuking is fast. 

I do the clean up, cuz Fraser wants to finish his preparations, he says. 

"I'm afraid I've been very dilatory," is what he says. So I play dumb, ask him what the hell that means, and he explains it, just as polite as always. 

Even when we were first working together and he drove me nuts on a regular basis, he never once acted like he thought I was stupid when I'd rag on him about some fifty dollar word he used. Sometimes I'd ask him just because listening to his explanation and his tone was kind of soothing in the middle of whatever maniac case we were working. 

When I come out, there's some more packages on the coffee table, and Dief is sulking over where the TV was before Fraser moved it into the bedroom. Fraser's standing back like he's sort of taking it in, grins at me. "You know, this may be the first Christmas I've truly celebrated in a very long time." 

Man, that breaks my heart, especially remembering his little speech last year when Welsh asked him for the Christmas toast. I slide over and put my arm around him, get one around me. "Last year sorta sucked, too." 

"No, last year was the beginning of improvement." He squeezes my shoulders a little bit. "Except I admit that I was feeling a little under the weather." 

"Beat down, ya mean." I look around the room. It's still missing something, I think, and slide away from him to plug in the chili lights. It adds a weirdly Christmas glow. "Wish I thought it was safe to go to midnight Mass," I say and go back to wrap my arm around him. "I think you'd like it." 

He tightens his arm around me. "We'll go together next year." 

Oh, yeah. Next year. Last year, I didn't know how long we'd have, if there was even really an us or I was just kidding myself. I turn my head and breathe in the smell of his skin and hair, lean in and lick the spot just under his ear. 

He laughs in his throat. "Have mercy, I'm not as young as I used to be." 

Just for that I bite him there, too. He pokes me in the ribs, I break away and do some sparring footwork, and naturally he waits until my guard opens and grabs me. 

I'm laughing like a fool. "Hey, not fair, my physical condition is appallin' right now." 

"You should have thought of that before you started." But all he does is hug me hard. "Let's go to bed." 

I squeeze back and let myself get shuffled off to bed like the ninety year old man I'm turning into. I'm lying there wrapped around Fraser when I wake up at like three in the morning. I don't know what woke me up, but then I figure out it's probably the glow from the livingroom. Demonic red glow, heh, the red hot Chili Christmas lights. I unwind myself and go out to unplug them, and stop to look out the window. It snowed yesterday and a little more tonight, and the street looks clean and white, like the winter I remember from being a kid. I'd look out the window and everything would look like magic, especially if the moon was out, and especially on Christmas Eve. 

I don't believe in Santa Claus any more, but I believe in Fraser. Thinking that gives the snow and the night just the right kind of magic, and I get back into bed, feeling about as goofy and happy as I did when I was seven and knew that Santa had come because the Christmas tree lights were on, even if I knew my dad would kill me if I woke them up at this hour. Haven't woken up at this time of night on Christmas since then, so maybe this is a good omen. 

Somehow, even having Crazy Eddie Mahan gunning for me doesn't seem quite so desperate these days. Sure, it's scary, but I'm starting to get the feeling that it'll still all come out okay. So I wrap myself back around Fraser, who grumbles that my feet are cold in a way that probably only I can translate, and that right there should tell me I'm losing my grip, I think that's a good thing. Not that my feet are cold, but that I can translate mostly asleep Fraserese. 

They aren't cold for long. And then I'm back at seven years old only I'm watching Dief play in the snow again, only all the sled dogs are there, too&.. 

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End Merry Little Christmas by anonymous co:

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